


Guardian

by ShadowWolfArt



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Deviates From Canon, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, TW: ANOREXIA SELF HARM, evan told the truth at the beginning, inspired by Faded Away by jarediscronchtastic, not really planned, not sure if this is major character death bc one of the characters is a ghost...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2020-06-03 05:51:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 3,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19457698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowWolfArt/pseuds/ShadowWolfArt
Summary: Connor is dead.Thanks to a fellow musicals fan for this idea! I honestly wouldn't be writing now if you hadn't read and edited some of my old stuff.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Faded Away](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16082726) by [jarediscronchtastic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarediscronchtastic/pseuds/jarediscronchtastic). 



Connor woke up with a start. What the ACTUAL HECK? It was pitch black, and he couldn't see anything. He reached out a hand, only to feel a cold wall to the side of where he was laying. He put his other hand out. Another wall. Up? The same. Connor started panicking. Where was he? Frantically, he pushed on the surface above him, trying to get it off, and with a strange tingling sensation, the wall was gone. Huh? The boy extended the rest of his arm. The wall was gone. He stood up, and broke through the surface of the earth with a gasp. The night sky was dark, and the stars twinkled merrily, giving off centuries old light."What the?" he muttered, and then he turned around.

Here Lies Connor Faist Murphy  
April 20, 2001- May 13, 2018  
Great son and wonderful friend

Connor's world turned into a tunnel, the only thing he could see were the markings scratched into the tombstone. He was-he was dead? How? Connor used the suddenly solid ground to push himself out of the freshly dug grave. Dusting himself off, he could see that all the scars on his arms were gone. Instead of the raised scar tissue crisscrossing his forearms that he had come to expect, there was pristine skin, smooth and unblemished. Nonono, that wasn't right, what happened, these weren't his arms, where were his arms, how do I fix this, I'm dead, how am I dead, whats happening? As Connor slowly calmed down, he saw a small bundle of white calla lilies by his grave. They were nice but he would have preferred... Wait. As he inspected the trumpet shaped blooms closer, he could see a flash of dark purple. He reached into the bouquet and extracted a single black calla lily. Who would leave something like this by his grave? And why did they add the black one instead of keeping the customary all white? There was a card next to the flowers bearing only two words and a signature.  
I'm sorry.  
Sincerely,  
Evan Hansen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks 4 reading this stupid fanfic I made  
> Edit: I like calla lilies fight me


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> switching between Connor and Evan's POV mostly  
> Connor realizes that the anxiety might be a problem

Dear Evan Hansen,  
Today's gonna be a great day, and here's why, maybe Connor can see back here, maybe he can see the lilies-

Evan sat back in his chair, releasing a pent up sigh. Stupid letter, stupid life, stupid, stupid, stupid. He banged his head on the table over and over. Why did those stupid lilies keep coming back to his mind? NO! Just because Jared teased Connor that day, just because maybe he could have stopped him, maybe because he could have stopped IT, maybe- Evan sighed again. Augh.

CONNOR'S POV

Connor had walked for an hour to reach Evan's house, and now he was there, he wasn't sure what he was going to do. Thank the kid? Maybe just watch him? He wasn't even sure if anyone could see him; no one was out and about on the roads at 3 in the morning. There was a slight glow coming from a cracked open window. Connor sneaked around the slightly unkempt lawn to the side of the house. He peeked into the window, (Why was he doing this, he really shouldn't be doing this, but he was dead who cares anymore) and saw Evan Hansen slumped in a chair staring at his computer screen. Connor phased through the wall, (helpful ghost trick) and stood in front of Evan before remembering that he was a ghost, and therefore invisible. (less helpful ghost trick) "Yo, Evan," Connor said, "Hey can you hear me?" The boy looked up, and his eyes shot open. "No, I'm hallucinating, you can't be real," Evan curled up in the rolling chair, gasping like he had just run a marathon. He was shivering, and looked terrified. Oh, Connor realized. This was the kid who had anxiety. A wave of guilt swept over the ghostly boy. He had triggered this, he should help him, that was what Zoe would do, right? "Deep breaths," Connor said softly, "One. In, hold... Out. Two. In, hold... Out." He made the smaller teen repeat the exercises that his therapist had taught him to control his anger outbursts. They should work for anxiety, right? Soon, the boy looked calmer, and as he uncurled from the tight ball he had been in, he looked surprised again. "C-Connor? Where are you?" As soon as Evan calmed down, Connor had closed his eyes and willed himself to vanish. Lesson learned. Don't appear. Ever. Unless you want to trigger the kid's anxiety again.

3RD PERSON POV  
The hallucination had disappeared. Phew. Evan looked at the clock. "Holy- Shoot, three-o-clock already?" Evan reasoned that the ghost-Connor-thing was just a vision brought on by a combination too much thinking about the dead teen and sleep deprivation. He sluggishly got out of his chair and made his way to his bed. "Goodnight Connor," Evan murmured jokingly. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. 

CONNOR'S POV  
"Goodnight Evan," I whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor is the Guardian from the title BTW  
> Halp im a cruddy writer  
> I was listening to Jetpack Blues by FOB on loop during this  
> if you haven't already, watch mushie r/mush roomie's pristine arms animatic, it's great


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a small filler chapter while I try and decide where this is gonna go! any input would be appreciated!

Since the late night anxiety incident, Connor had remained by Evan’s side, invisibly following his around his day to day life. He watched as Evan tried to write his dumb therapy letters, (emphasis on the tried) and he also watched as he sat alone at his desk, eating whatever leftover takeout he could find in the refridgerator. Every single night. Every night, Evan would return home from another day of merciless teasing aka school, and sit at his small desk, staring at his computer screen, completely alone in the house, except for Connor, but he was a ghost, so he didn’t count. Sometimes, especially after a particularly long day, Evan would just cry. Connor had never seen the kid look so helpless, except maybe during an anxiety attack. He wasn’t even a loud crier either, he would just lay in his bed, silent, as tears poured down his face. He would occasionally sniffle or wipe his eyes, but other than that he was quiet, tears rolling down his face and disappearing into his pillow. Somehow, this was worse to Connor than if Evan had had a meltdown. He couldn’t help but feel like he had caused this somehow, like it was his fault. Times like this, he would leave his perch on top of Evan’s desk, and walk over to the bed to wrap his arms around the younger teen protectively.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUGH I cant write nice scenes, too much of my heart has been shattered, HALP  
> on a more serious note, sorry if this isn't that good, I have a tendancy to write in spurts, like, I can sometimes write one or two pages of a story in a night, then go weeks or even months without opening the page again. As a result, the editing (which I do myself) is sloppy at best.  
> Sorry


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe argues with Mrs. Murphy

When she came home from running errands, Mrs Murphy called Zoe down from her room, much to her annoyance (she had been video calling Alana.) When the sullen girl stomped downstairs, Mrs Murphy, who had a giant smile plastered across her face, pulled out a small book from a shopping bag. "Getting Over Grief: A Guide for Teens," Zoe read. "I thought we could read this together," Mrs Murphy said, "I think it will help us get over Connor's death, right?" Zoe was very skeptical, and Said nothing. She didn't need help getting over Connor's death, she got over it before it had happened. Zoe only got through sixteen pages of sickly sweet encouragements before she snapped. "I don't want to read anymore of this today," she said. "Why?" "Because." "You can tell me the truth, Zoe I'm your mother you know." You want the truth? Zoe thought. Fine "Reading, this," she said angrily stabbing an accusing finger towards the book, "Do you need to fix me or something? We can't have a repeat of the suicidal emo kid can we? You have to keep your perfect, problem free daughter." Mrs Murphy's face turned angry. "Why would I think something is wrong with you? I wanted to read the book too. Is there something wrong with me? Huh? Tell me Zoe." Zoe pounded up the stairs, and slammed the door to her room. Hypocrite. First she said that she should tell the truth. Then she got mad when Zoe did. Zoe flopped onto the bed, and as she did, she caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye. "C-Connor? Get away from me! No! You're dead! Didn't you terrorize me enough while you were alive?"

Shit, coming back was a bad idea. Zoe looked terrified, and Connor couldn't blame her. After all that he had done, she must be so scared. He willed his body to become invisible again. He phased through the wall, stopping only for a second to take one last look at his younger sister. " 'Bye Zoe," Connor whispered before he left. He had no plans to come back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: ANOREXIA SELF HARM

After Connor had died, Zoe got more attention. And more judgement. After Connor died, Zoe pushes herself to be perfect in everything, grades, attitude, but most of all appearance. Freak. “I’m ok, I had a big breakfast. Loser. “ I’m not hungry now.” Fat. “I’ll skip dinner, I have a lot of homework.

Connor watched as his sister slowly wasted away before his eyes. It wasn’t obvious at first. A skipped meal here, another there, but as the weeks and months dragged by, Zoe ate less and less. Ghost Connor watched helplessly as she pushed herself mentally and physically to the edge, spending all her time in the library either collapsed on a chair or studying furiously. Zoe became skeletal and haggard in appearance, and Connor now spent his time divided between the Hansen household and his own.

Evan was useless. He couldn’t even die properly. He was weak and weird and to antisocial. The thoughts ran through Evan’s mind as he dragged the Exacto knife across the skin of his left pinkie. He should just die, they would be happier with him gone. Red welled up from the small cut. He should die, and do it properly this time. Before he knew it, the fingers on his left hand were a bloody mess. Weak. A slice opened up his forearm. Bright crimson blood spilled by out from the cut into his sink. Head spinning, Evan stumbled to his bed and passed out.  
The next morning Evan woke up. He staggered into his bathroom, half asleep. There was no evidence of last night. Had it just been a dream? No. He looked at his hand. It was covered in bandages, wrapped expertly around the cuts. The sink was clear of blood, and everything else was in its place, except for one thing. Sitting on the countertop was a package of markers, with a note scribbled in spiky letters.  
Draw, don’t cut  
Please  
Sincerely, me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you EA for this lovely and not at all random poem.   
> Roses are red  
> My name is Dave  
> This makes no sense   
> Microwave
> 
> Please don’t hurt and/or starve yourself, it’s not good, and anorexia is very hard to stop. Take it from me. Please, just, don’t. Screw the meanies.  
> -Shadow


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently interacting with stuff as a ghost is hard

Well. Apparently moving stuff as a ghost is not the greatest. After writing the note and moving the box of pens about FIVE FREAKING FEET Connor could barely move for the next three days. When he was able to think again, he saw that Evan still had cuts in his arm, but the lines were old, and outnumbered by the many intricate ink designs covering his arm.

Evan was still confused about where the pens had come from, but he couldn’t spare enough thought to dwell on the problem, he was focused on making it though one day, then the next, then the next. Sometimes he felt like he was floating, and his whole body would go numb. Those were the days he took out the craft knife late at night. Mostly though, he was content with the pens. He could figure out where they were from later. If he wasn’t dead by June.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Another chapter written late at night! I’m sorry this sucks


	7. Chapter 7

When Connor finally had a chance to think, he wondered, why aren’t I dead? Like, dead dead. Is there something that’s stopping me from being dead dead? God, I’m such a failure. You did the job, but only halfway. How useless can you be?


	8. Chapter 8

"Stupid. Stupid. How stupid can you be?" Zoe kicked the wall with each word. Strangely exhausted, she collapsed face down onto her bed. “Argh,” she groaned into her pillow. Stupid. A 76. She couldn’t believe it. Her final exam, and she just barely passed. What had she done wrong? Her test was filled with stupid mistakes, easily remedied. She would have caught them if- Wait. Why hadn’t she gone back over the test? She always did. She remembered how the paper kept swimming in front of her, words and numbers warping on the page. It had made her stomach hurt, and- She had turned it in without checking. Then what? She had, slept? Yes, she had slept. Which actually didn’t seem like such a bad idea now, sitting on her mattress. Yes. Sleep.

“Zoe! Time for dinner!” Mrs. Murphy waited for a few minutes, and frowned when her daughter didn’t appear at the top of the stairs. “Zoe?” She climbed the stairs, calling for her child. When she swung open the door to Zoe’s room, the teen was collapsed on her bed. “Zoe?” panic filled Mrs. Murphy’s voice. “Zoe, wake up,” she said, shaking her shoulder to wake her. Zoe stayed unconscious, and Mrs. Murphy yelled to her husband, “Larry, call the hospital.” “What?” “Zoe isn’t waking up.”

There were tubes and needles stuck into Zoe’s arm. So many cables, all connected to various machines, or bags filled with dubious looking liquid. When Evan had gotten an email from Jared, telling him that Zoe was in the hospital, Connor rushed to see his sister. “Zo,” he said, voice breaking. She had never liked hospitals. Always said that they reminded her of him. Even when they were younger, she had never liked getting shots. Now, her bony arms were poked full of them, slivers of metal pushed deep in her skin, feeding life into her veins. Connor sat on the side of Zoe’s hospital bed, reminded once again that he wasn’t really there by the mattress, which stayed flat as he sat down. “Stay alive,” he whispered to his sister. “You aren’t allowed to die-” he paused. ‘Before I do’ was what he usually said, but now- “You aren’t allowed to die,” Connor said firmly. The door opened behind him. Larry and Cynthia Murphy walked in. 

“Take care of my sister.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> !!IGNORE THIS CHAPTER!!  
> I started developing the plot, but later realized that the story didn't fit well with the characters. I will be writing another story, with my own characters, following this concept. I apologize for any inconvenience, but I hope you will enjoy the story anyways.

The shadow spoke, a guttural, rattling voice, full of menace. “What do you think Eryn? Remove the block? It’s rather… entertaining to see what he does without the memory of his choice.” Another humanoid figure, wearing a blindfold and a ragged maroon cloak, replied, “If you think it would be best.” She sounded young, as if she had never passed her teenage years. “Although, without him knowing, his potential as a reaper is wasted.” Both of them fell silent for several minutes. “Very well then. Soon we shall remove the spell.” He crossed his hands in front of him, and as he does, several orbs that appear to be implanted into his knuckles start to glow a sickly orange color. “Soon.” 

Connor was running. Running from the hospital, running from his sister, from his parents, from the mystery known as Evan Hansen. Running, running, running. When he finally got to the old orchard, he screamed, a primal song of loss and pain ripping from his throat, one that only he could hear. Tears ran down his face, mingling with the rain that fell from the dark sky above. “Why? Why me? What did I do wrong? Why can’t I just- just-” he was screaming at the sky now, “Why can’t I just die?” He fell to his knees, collapsing on the soggy earth. “What do I have to do to stop the pain?”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> !!IGNORE THIS CHAPTER!!  
> I started developing the plot, but later realized that the story didn't fit well with the characters. I will be writing another story, with my own characters, following this concept. I apologize for any inconvenience, but I hope you will enjoy the story anyways.

“Who- who are you?” Connor wasn’t sure what was going on. The last thing he remembered was downing all of the pills he had grabbed from the medicine cabinet, then- nothing. What happened? He had been planning his own death for months. No one was home, Zoe was at band practice, his dad was at work, and his mother was out running her weekly errands. It had been practically foolproof. But now… where even was he? Looking around, he saw a huge cavern, completely closed in by stone. The only light came from two glowing orbs held in the huge, clawed hands of the giant figure in front of him. “Hello Connor Murphy. You can call me Raleg. This,” he waved an arm at the figure standing next to him, “is Eryn.” Eryn gave no indication she had heard, the maroon fabric of her cloak still, and unmoving as the stone around her. Connor felt his eyes being drawn towards the glowing orbs that Raleg held. “What are those?” Raleg grinned in a strangely predatory way, as if he was unused to the expression, face contorting in ways that should be impossible. “Oh, these? These are a choice.” Connor stayed silent, slightly confused, but intrigued. “One thing you may know already,” Raleg was cut off by a youthful voice. “You are dead. Completely and totally dead. The choice before you will not give you a chance at life again. Keep that in mind as you decide. You will never be able to go back to your old life.” Connor grinned, trying to hide the growing pit in his stomach. “I would never want to go back. Now, get on with it. What do those things do?” He pointed towards the orbs. “Have you ever heard of a reaper?” Taken aback by the sudden change Connor took a moment to respond to the query. “Like the Grim Reaper? Or like, the farmer kind.” Eryn seemed to sign, and stepping out from behind Raleg, who no longer seemed in charge, said, “Sure. Your… Grim Reaper is probably the closest thing that you know. These spheres here are simply containers, built not to hold water or food, but to contain the energy found in souls.” “S-souls?” Eryn sighed again. “Yes, souls. Like yourself.” As Connor processed the new information, Eryn plucked the softly glowing orbs from Raleg’s hands. Turning his palms down, Eryn showed Connor the smaller balls implanted in Raleg’s knuckles. “See? All Reapers have these implants. They use them to take souls from a human, and transport them here, where they can be judged and sentenced. Very few can become Reapers.” Connor considered his choices. “So, if I decide to become a Reaper, I’ll have to… take people’s souls? And bring them here?” Eryn nodded silently. “What’s the other option?” “You will be judged, like the others. If you are found guilty, you will be punished.” “Fine.” “You wish to become a Reaper?” Connor nodded. Eryn seemed to need no other confirmation. “Then let us begin.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! If you made it this far, congrats! Thanks for reading my first fanfic, inspired by jarediscronchtastic's Faded Away. This is basically my take on the Ghost!Connor au, and it's not that good, sorry. The chapters are probably gonna be really short and sometimes edited, sometimes not. So yeah.  
> STATUS: On Hold
> 
> I’m gonna try (when I can have a regular schedule) to update every two weeks if I can, to have some of my friends and stuff edit/proofread the chapters. I’m also gonna try to have longer chapters and any feedback is welcome and wanted. Keep in mind though if there are any offensive or overly rude comments, they will be deleted.  
> Thanks!  
> -Shadow


End file.
